Page 13 of Forbidden Love

Everyone had a past. Everyone had regrets. But to hold those over someone’s head like a noose? To keep them trapped in their worst mistakes and never letting them move forward said more about the people doing the judging than the one being judged.What frustrated him the most is that Deb took it all as if she deserved the treatment she was being given. Yeah, not on his watch.

Brock clenched his fists, his steps harder, heavier. Brock had every intention of going straight to Dell. The man was acting Alpha, and these assholes were new to the Pack, new enough that they clearly didn’t understand how things worked around here.

As much as he wanted to march back into that damn restaurant and lay every single one of them out, he knew better. The Pack had rules. You had a problem; you took it to the Alpha. That’s how shit got settled.

Not that Brock was a Lee County Wolf, but herespectedthem. Respected what they stood for. What they’d done for his sister and Ben. It’s what he would have expected when he was Alpha.

He turned toward the auto shop where Dell and Malcolm stood outside, deep in conversation. But before he could call out to them, a familiar voice—one of the dickheads from the diner—reached his ears.

“Looks like someone beat you to the pretty sister.”

Laughter followed.

Brock slowed, his muscles locking up, his breath coming sharp through his nose. His vision blurred at the edges and darkened. He closed his eyes, forcing himself tobreathe, to push down the wildfire rage clawing its way up his spine.

But yeah…

That wasn’t fucking happening. His wolf snapped its tether, growling in his chest, and Brock didn’t fight it. He opened his eyes. “Fuck it.”

Brock walked straight up to the loudmouth, his boots hitting the pavement with deliberate, measured steps. The guy’s friends immediately backed away, their laughter dying in their throats as they took one look at Brock’s face.

“Hey, what’s up?—”

The rest of his sentence was cut off with a strangled choke as Brock’s hand shot out, wrapping around his throat. In one smooth motion, he lifted the bastard clean off the ground. The guy’s hands scrambled at Brock’s wrist, his feet kicking uselessly in the air.

In three strides, Brock slammed him against the front of the restaurant, the impact rattling the windows. The Pack rules? Right now, he didn’t give adamnabout them.

His wolf growled just beneath the surface, barely restrained, as Brock leaned in close, his voice a lethal whisper. "You like running your mouth about women? Talking shit about Deb?" His grip tightened slightly, enough to make the guy's face flush red. "How about you say that shit tomeinstead? Come on, badass."

The shifter gasped, his fingers digging into Brock’s wrist. His friends stayed rooted in place, wide-eyed, clearly unwilling to step in. Smart move.

Dell’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. “Brock.”

Brock didn’t turn his head, but his jaw clenched.

“Let him go,” Dell ordered, his tone firm. “Now.”

For a second, Brock considered ignoring him. Every instinct in his body screamed for him to choke the life out of the fucker. But he wasn’tthatguy. With a growl, he dropped the shifter, who crumpled to his knees, coughing and gasping.

Brock stepped back, cracking his neck as he turned to face Dell, who stood a few feet away, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

“This piece of shit disrespected Deb as well as Emily,” Brock said, his voice still tight with anger. “I don’t tolerate that.”

Dell nodded slowly. “Neither do I.” His gaze flicked to the guy still wheezing on the ground. “Which is whyIhandle issues inmyPack.”

Brock let out a sharp breath, shaking off the residual rage. “Then handle it.”

Dell’s eyes darkened, and he nodded again. “Oh, I will.”

Malcolm, who had been standing silently, finally stepped forward. His movements were slow and deliberate as he yanked the shifter to his feet with little effort. His grip was like iron, and his expression was dark with restrained fury.

“What the fuck did he do?” Malcolm demanded, his voice sharp as a blade.

“He was saying a bunch of shit about Deb and her sister, Emily,” another shifter—one Brock recognized from the restaurant—spoke up. His expression was tight with frustration. “I tried to warn the dumbass.”

“Fuck you, Asher,” Nico spat, his glare turning on his so-called friend.

Asher didn’t flinch. “You’re bad news, Nico. All you ever talked about before Jonah brought us here was how many chicks you could fuck. Not about the Pack, not about the rules. Just your dick.”

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